Fame
by spacetraveller
Summary: A sherlolly fanfic where Sherlock Holmes is a famous actor. AU
1. Chapter 1

Molly looked longingly at the coffee shop across the street.

The aroma of the brewing beans wafted through the evening air, a siren call to those caffeine loving souls, near and far.

She sighed and kept walking towards her apartment. Though the coffee at Stephen's was quite literally mind blowing, it also would blow a hole in her almost non-existent bank balance.

Molly was one of those college graduates who despite passing with a decent score, were unable to find a job. After three months of unsuccessful job hunting it was looking like she would have to settle on a life time of waitressing in the local cafes. There was only so much money her mother could lend.

Not for the first time, Molly thought about how things would have been different if her father were still alive. He had passed away right after she finished high school. She had planned on doing medical in college. Later focus on pathology but despite the scholarships being offered to her, she couldn't afford it. So she had decided to do sociology in their town's local college.

As she reached her flat, she shook her head. Wishful thinking.

"Molly!" her roommate Mary called from the bed/sofa where she was busy typing on her phone.

"Hey!" Molly called out, a bit dejectedly as she placed her coat on one of the plastic chairs.

Her best friend immediately looked up from her phone.

"Bad?" It was not really a question.

She slumped on the bed.

"Very bad."

Today she had gone for an interview with a small book publishing company who were in need of an assistant editor. She had done the interview spectacularly. Well she had thought she had done spectacularly. But then they didn't even bother to tell the usual 'we'll call to let you know' as they handed their file back to her.

"Aww! It's ok. It's their loss not yours" Mary said giving her sad faced friend a hug.

Molly smiled at the blonde. She had no idea what she would do without her.

"But I am running out of options. There's only that dress shop in the mall where there's a vacancy. Guess it's that or nothing. The month is almost up and I don't have enough for the rent" she said.

"Don't you worry about the rent" Mary said with a shrug. "I'll pay your share."

"No, Mary. I can't let you keep on doing that. I'm joining at the dress shop tomorrow" she said with finality.

Mary was amazing with computers. She was working for a software company and she was rising quite fast in her career. Molly wasn't jealous. They were childhood friends and she wanted only the best for her friend. Mary was already covering for the grocery and the take outs. She didn't want to take even more advantage of Mary than she already was.

Mary tried to protest but Molly's mind was set. She desperately needed the money.

So Mary let it go. For now.

It had been a harrowing and disappointing day. She really needed to take it out of her system. It was only six in the evening and Molly was going to get some fresh air.

Changing back into casual clothes, she carefully folded the pencil skirt and the cream blouse and put it in her cupboard. It was her only good pair and it was what she wore for interviews.

After agreeing to meet Mary for dinner, she left their apartment and started walking towards the nearby park.

She was just about to enter when her phone buzzed. It was her father's friend, Mike Stamford.

"Hello! Mike" Molly said with a huge grin.

"Hello! Molly" he said in his soft voice.

"How are you? And where are you?" she asked excitedly. Mike was almost like a second father to her. He had offered to cover for her educational expenses, but her mother didn't want to burden him.

Mike was in the cinema industry. He called himself a manager, but it was much more. He traveled a lot and never forgot to bring her a memento from the exotic lands that he visited. She had them all boxed up in her mother's house.

"I'm good. And I'm in London" he said cheerfully.

"You're here?" she asked in disbelief. He had his office in New York, in the center of the Hollywood industry.

"Yes. Was meeting a client of mine. I want to see you. Are you free now?" he asked.

"Um…yeah. Of course! I'm free" she said.

"Good. Meet you in our usual place at seven" he said and cut the call.

Molly grinned. She was going to drink that Stephen's coffee after all.

/-/-/-/-/-/

"I called your mother."

Molly's hand froze midway on the journey to her mouth, the doughnut almost falling from her hand.

Mike had been punctual as usual. As soon as he saw her, he engulfed her in a huge hug and kissed the top of her head.

They had chatted about anything and everything, as they ordered their coffees. Molly had smiled smugly at her coffee cup, before taking a big gulp from it.

As soon as they had settled he dropped the bomb shell.

"Uh…"

"There is a vacancy in a place I know" he started.

"No Mike" she interrupted him. "It's fine. I already have a job" she said.

"You're a terrible liar Molly" he said, taking a sip from his cup.

"Well, I'll find one tomorrow" she said earnestly.

"Being an assistant in a dress shop, you mean."

Damn. Her mother sure talked a lot.

"Listen, Molly. You didn't let me pay for your education. You've got to let me help. It's the only way how I could repay your father."

Mike and her father, George had served in the war together. George had saved his life from a shrapnel.

He looked at her sincerely. Willing her to accept.

"Fine" she said, raising her arms in surrender. It also helped that she wasn't so keen on working at the mall.

"What sort of job?"

"Personal assistant."

That could be nice. Very nice.

"For whom?" she asked. Mike came in contact with so many people that guessing would be impossible.

"Sherlock Holmes. Heard of him?"

Heard of him? Molly wasn't very much interested in movies and stuff. She rarely watched telly, preferring books over it. But then even she was bloody more than aware of Sherlock Holmes.

He was one of the most famous actors in the industry and he just took to acting a couple of years ago. His fans ranged from fourteen year olds (maybe even less) to seventy year olds (maybe even more), mostly females. Mary had once dragged her to watch one of his movies. She had no idea what the plot was, she had just gaped at him (probably drooled also) on the screen the entire time.

Also he was a very private person. Apart from the promotional interviews he never did any other interviews.

And of course she didn't say all of it out loud.

"Yes" she said, barely suppressing the squeak in her voice.

"Oh! Good. Today he was telling, more like lamenting about how he wasn't able to find a good personal assistant. And I instantly thought of you. Okay?" he asked, voice filled with hope.

"Um…Sure" she said, not at all sure.

"Great" he said looking a bit sheepish.

"Uh…You already have the job. I knew you would accept. You're expected there tomorrow. I'll text you the address" he said with a wink and stood up.

Molly simply shook her head at his presumption. They hugged and said their goodbyes.

She rushed to her flat, almost breaking into a run and only after she closed the door did she jump and give a squeal.

Mary rushed out from the shower, after throwing on a bathrobe hastily.

"Oh! My God! I thought you were being murdered" she said with a glare.

After a few minutes during which Molly shared the news with her, loud shrieks and squeals could be heard from the apartment.

AN: I'd like to know what y'all think! :)


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Hello! Thank you for your reviews, favs and follows.

Deep breathes.

Molly knew that she might look weird, sitting with her eyes closed and taking ridiculously deep breathes in the tube. But then, looking weird was so much better than looking like a complete idiot.

She was freaking nervous and excited. A deadly mix. Right now she was trying to calm herself, so that when she meets Sherlock Holmes (high pitched internal squealing) she wouldn't blabber something idiotic or worse, faint.

She wasn't even a diehard fan. But then the thought of meeting some famous celebrity was a bit too much. And added to it was the fact that the celebrity looked good enough to eat. So all in all, a tad bit too overwhelming.

The mechanical voice announced her stop. As she walked out of the station, she had caught a glimpse of herself on one of the glass windows.

She was really glad that she had led Mary talk herself into borrowing one of her dresses. She was now wearing a knee length black skirt, paired with a blood red blouse. Her hair was in a no nonsense bun. A pair of black pumps and handbag completed her look. It wasn't ramp worthy but it was a huge improvement over her usual interview clothes.

Molly checked her watch.

Crap.

She was supposed to be there at nine and it was already eight thirty.

Dodging the crowd, she rushed outside the tube station and headed towards the address Mike had texted her. She wasn't surprised that it was one of the poshest area in London.

Apparently Sherlock Holmes's office was part of his house. So she was headed there, right now. His house! (More internal squealing.)

Molly sighed in relief when she arrived in front of the huge black gate. Yay! She was on time. She buzzed the intercom.

"Name and purpose" came a sharp voice, from the device.

"Um…Molly. Molly Hooper. I am here for the personal assistant post?" She hated how unsure she sounded. Well she couldn't blame herself. She was still in the stage where she expected Mike to call and tell all this was a joke. He would never do that, but still…

Her increasingly panicked thoughts were broken when she heard the gates open noiselessly. There was a security guard who verified that she was indeed whom she claimed to be and then let her go.

She was trying her best to not be overwhelmed but the house really wasn't helping. It was huge. She had to physically restrain her jaw from falling wide open. The word mansion wouldn't even begin to cover it. It was huge and well-kept and must at least span for a few acres.

Molly strictly averted her eyes and made sure to look down at her feet. This way there was less chance that she wouldn't notice how she didn't belong here.

 _Even the road looks so elegant. Shut up, Hooper._

Finally she was at the door. It was wide open.

Should she just walk in? She decided to first knock politely. She fully expected a butler to appear out of thin air but nothing happened. When nobody answered after a few more minutes, when she knocked again, she stepped inside.

If the outside was beautiful, she couldn't even begin to comprehend the interior of the house. There were sculptures scattered artfully across the drawing room, interspersed with beautiful potted plants. Paintings adorned the walls.

 _But it doesn't look like a place where someone lives, not the home like atmosphere_ , she mused.

She was so taken by the surrounding that she almost didn't notice somebody sitting on the cream colored, no doubt lush sofa. Almost.

Molly gulped.

It was him. It was Sherlock Holmes.

He looked even more gorgeous in real life. She had thought that make-up and light was what made him look sinfully irresistible but no. She could already feel her brain turn into a mush.

He was intently focused on something he was reading on his laptop.

A part of her which was not busy ogling, noted with irritation that he would have heard her knock and yet had refused to answer.

"You must be the personal assistant Mike suggested" he said without even glancing at her.

His voice. (Swoon.)

 _He's talking to you, you idiot._

She instantly tried to stop drooling and hastened to answer.

"Yes" she said, without squeaking for once.

Upon hearing her voice he looked up, his carefully carved, perfect cheekbone face and (ugh!) those eyes focused on her. It was all Molly could do to stay on her feet.

However he didn't speak. He just gave her a look which made her feel as if she was being scanned, like all her defenses were being stripped down and he could see all of her secrets.

It lasted only a moment but it was the most uncomfortable moment of her life.

Seemingly satisfied, at what she had no idea, Sherlock Holmes nodded once.

"Mrs. Hudson!" he called, loudly.

Promptly a motherly lady appeared. She smiled at Molly and then looked expectantly at the actor.

"This is the new personal assistant. Show her, her work-space and explain her duty."

Mrs. Hudson was just about to guide her when he added, "Also, give her an advance of her salary." They both gave him a questioning look.

"Clothes. The one she's currently wearing are borrowed from a friend obviously. Also she has only another pair and is reluctantly planning on asking money from her mother for purchasing some" he said in a bored tone and returned to whatever he was doing before.

The old lady was a picture of shock and Molly's face was bright red.

 _He knows that the dress is borrowed. Oh! God._

She wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson said in a reprimanding tone. "I'm sure John has talked to you about this. You are being rude."

"Not rude. Just stating facts. Now leave, I'm busy" Sherlock said in a dismissive manner.

Mrs. Hudson spoke to her as she was trying to not let herself get angry and embarrassed. That would make her cry and she so did not want to do that.

"I'm sorry dear. He could be quite insensitive. It's nice to meet you. I'm the housekeeper. Come on" she said and led a still red faced Molly to show her work place.

At that moment two things became clear to her. One, it was just her first day at work and it was already going downhill. Two, Sherlock bloody Holmes was an absolute git when he opened his mouth.

AN: A bit of a filler, ,I know. But the stage has to be right? ;) Let me know your thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks for the support! :D You people are the best!

The word workspace was a bit of an understatement. It was more like an office room. Tastefully decorated like the rest of the house with art and potted plants. A table made entirely out of glass commanded Molly's attention as soon as she stepped into the room. A comfortable chair was placed behind it. There was no clutter on the table, just an apple laptop and a pen stand (also made of glass).

"This is where you'll be working, my dear" Mrs. Hudson said. Though she talked a lot, Molly liked her. She was kind and nice, unlike some people.

Molly immediately headed to the chair and took a seat. She smiled. She finally had a job. And from the job description which Mrs. Hudson had given her, she could handle it. But then the thought of her employer put a frown on her face.

The housekeeper, observant as ever, noticed the frown upon her face.

"Oh! Don't you fret dear, you would do just fine. I know. You're quite different. You didn't burst into tears or spit some insult before walking away" she said with a smile.

And suddenly the mystery of why people wouldn't kill to work for Sherlock Holmes was solved.

However she refused to let Sherlock's behavior dampen her mood. She had a job and it was a decent one too. She resolved right there that she would do her best to ignore her rude employer and give her best.

While she had been making her silent vow, Mrs. Hudson had opened the drawer of the mahogany cupboard and was now retrieving few documents from inside.

"The confidentiality agreement" she said and placed the papers in front of her. Molly signed them. A part of her job was to handle the scripts of movies and these documents made sure that she keep her mouth shut about them and not give away spoilers, else be sued. Seriously if she spoiled anything, Mary would personally kill her.

"And here is your advance" the old lady said, handing a check. She blushed at that.

She accepted it meekly. Then with a kind smile the housekeeper left, promising to check on her later.

Molly took a deep breath. She could do this.

/-/-/-/-/-/

Molly still couldn't believe that it took so many people to make a movie. All around her technicians were buzzing around, fixing this or changing that. She tried her best to stay out of way.

Frankly she had no idea what she was doing here.

She was well into the third week of her job. Honestly, it was an achievement. Mary and she had gone out for drinks to celebrate. It sounded quite pathetic, but she could assure you that it was not.

Molly's job was a mine field. Sherlock had been away in the states for a movie promotion in the first week. She had to simply plan his organizer when he would be back and arrange for meetings with a choice few directors. Mrs. Hudson had often popped around her 'workspace' with some tea and biscuits. It was pretty great.

But the moment he came back, all hell broke loose.

"What is this?" he had asked Molly, pointing to the organizer which she had forwarded him earlier.

She couldn't gauge his reaction. There had been no emotion on his face.

"Um…your organizer?" God! Why had it sounded like a question.

"Ms. Hooper according to this 'organizer' which you have prepared, I'm to attend two meetings a day, before and after shooting."

Yes. That was what it said. She had meticulously made the organizer in such a way that he wouldn't be in any rush. The thought of someone questioning her work had made her indignant.

"Yes. That way there would be plenty of time for you to have food and other relaxations. Also, this ensures that all the events for the week are also covered." She didn't stutter at all.

Sherlock just looked at her for a moment and before she knew what happened, he was in her personal space, towering over her.

"Ms. Hooper I do not need relaxations. And more importantly I don't eat when I work. Change it. I want the meetings planned for the next two weeks, scheduled in this week." And with that he had left her office. Dramatically.

It was all Molly could do to not burst into tears.

It wasn't that bad, she knew that. But this had been her first assignment and she had clearly failed. And the look in his eyes. As if she were an utter moron.

It was already five, her job hours were over but she hadn't left that day. She had stayed and planned the organizer, starting with ripping the initial one into pieces until she was satisfied she wouldn't weep. She had to make calls and change the timings with the concerned parties. Not all of them had been cooperative but she had drudged on. Only after emailing him the new one did she leave. It had already been twelve and her phone had been bursting with worried messages from her best friend.

The next day, she found him seated on the sofa (the lush one), the printed organizer in his hand. Molly had simply ignored him, foregoing her usual cheerful 'good morning' and went to her office. Moments later her laptop had pinged with a new email.

 _This will do._

 _-SH_

Ha! Will do? The new organizer not only jam packed the next two weeks in this one, it also gave breathing time to 'Mr. I don't eat or relax.' Well as long as he didn't think she was stupid, she was happy.

The next few days felt literally like dancing with the devil. She would do something and could only pray that he wasn't pissed by it. Sometimes her prayers were answered and sometimes not.

But then slowly she understood his expectations, which were quite high mind you, and delivered her best which was probably good enough so he didn't make her feel like crying or slapping him.

So it had really been a surprise when her phone pinged and it was a message from her boss.

Come at once to Harrow.

-SH

And then another.

Bring Coffee.

-SH

Molly had rolled her eyes. It was his typical behavior. Make her cross half of London just to bring him coffee. But then he had never called her to any shooting spots.

After having Mrs. Hudson make coffee and transferring it to a thermos, apparently there was something wrong with Starbucks coffee (she had almost upended the cup on his head for the reasoning), she was finally here.

Still looking around, she made her way to where the filming was taking place. She spotted her boss. The makeup artist was struggling to get his curly hair to cooperate.

"Ah! Molly" he said when he looked up and saw her. She didn't know when she became 'Molly' from 'Ms. Hooper' but she wasn't complaining. His voice made her name sound so good.

"Your coffee." She offered it to him with a big smile.

He was about to tell her something when they were interrupted.

"Oh! The new PA" a man with silver hair said.

He was quite handsome and had a twinkle in his eyes.

"Molly, meet Gavin Lestrade, director. Lestrade, Molly Hooper, my PA." Sherlock introduced them.

"It's Greg not Gavin and you know it" Lestrade said, giving a him withering look, who simply shrugged in response. He then turned to her with a smile.

"You must be special" he said with a laugh and upon seeing her confused look he added, "We didn't get to meet his other assistants. I heard every single one fled."

She laughed with him.

"Yes, very funny. Now, Lestrade I don't want Anderson handling my shooting details anymore. He's an imbecile. Molly you'll be handling them from now on."

"Oh!" she squeaked. While one part of her broke into a touch down dance another part of her was daunted. This was a much bigger responsibility. She would have to accompany him on his every shoot including the abroad ones. But she could do it.

Clearing her throat she added firmly. "Okay."

"Well it's better this way. I will finally get some peace from Anderson complaining about what an arse you are" Greg said.

A woman with long red hair approached them and said that the shot was ready. In the meantime when they had been conversing, the makeup artist had somehow turned Sherlock's curls into sleek ones which were drawn back.

The director gave her a hurried goodbye and followed the red head. So did her boss, sans the goodbye. The thermos lay abandoned, much to her ire.

Molly watched Sherlock in awe as the filming began. He was such a brilliant actor, his face seamlessly moving on from one emotion to another. Something which was so different from the cold and detached personality that he usually put up. She felt her heart speed up as she continued to watch, mesmerized.

Oh! She had forgot to mention. She had developed a huge crush on Sherlock Holmes. Yup, despite the fact that he was the biggest git in the world. Also yes, Molly Hooper was an idiot.

AN: Hope this was okay. :)


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